


I Do It For Your Love

by SubtextEquals



Series: Agron and Nasir's Romantic Dramedy [2]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 13:44:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1607261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubtextEquals/pseuds/SubtextEquals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Companion fic to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1592315">I'm Someone Who Loves You.</a></p><p>The moment Agron sees Nasir there's an immediate attraction. He just didn't expect to fall so hard. He didn't expect how it would unravel either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Do It For Your Love

**Author's Note:**

> These are more supplemental scenes from the first fic, so if you read it without reading the first one it won't be understandable. While writing, I'm Someone Who Loves You I had a few images of what Agron would do in between the scenes and I had to get some of them down.

Agron hoped that his sophomore year of college would be better than his freshman year, not in terms of making friends (he’d made plenty last year) but when it came to grades and the quality of classes. He didn’t have a good feeling though. He wasn’t looking forward to the class he was going to: English was not his favorite subject.

When he got there it looked like he’d have a little time to kill. There was a crowd of students outside the class and-- wow.

There was this one guy standing there, back to the wall, staring at the floor. He had olive skin and long, black hair that fell to his shoulders, perfectly brushed and half covering what looked, in Agron’s estimation, to be a perfect neck. It didn’t matter that he was over a foot shorter than Agron and slighter by far. This man was _hot_. When the guy looked up Agron smiled, eyes lingering before he sat down on the floor.

English wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

Only, minutes into class, when he glanced over the syllabus, he realized it was going to be bad. James Joyce? He thought he’d escaped that after graduating high school. Fuck that. Seriously, fuck it. Agron wanted to leave and drop the class right now, ridiculously hot, pretty boy or not but damn everything, it was a requirement.

At least after he managed to have a conversation with Perfect Hair And Neck. And by conversation he meant they talked briefly and the guy hadn’t given Agron a look of disgust. That was progress.

 

His name was Nasir. He hated James Joyce as well and didn’t want to be called little. Agron didn’t really care about that last bit all that much. But even better than that, he was going to History Club. Now if Agron could just find out for sure that he was gay instead of just relying on his (likely too optimistic) hunch, he’d be all set.

Never mind that his trouble had never been finding someone who was interested in him. It was keeping them interested.

But when he was playing soccer with his friends, he’d forgotten all about that particular problem and Nasir. He was too focused on keeping the ball away from Saxa, who kept coming at him like a crazed wild cat. He kicked the soccer ball toward their makeshift goal and watched as it went farther than he’d anticipated and directly hit some guy’s face.

...Oh shit, he looked really familiar too.

Agron swore. “Nasir?”

Oh shit, shit, shit.

“You are such a dick.”

The statement, coming from him of the Perfect Hair And Neck and not a bad personality to match it, actually made Agron apologize but Nasir waved him off.

“Don’t-- it’s fine. I’ll-- head to the health center.”

“I’ll go with you.” Agron insisted. Maybe he’d forgive him if he--

“No,” Nasir said quickly. “No. Stay here and practice your aim.”

Agron watched as Nasir walked off and all he could do was call after him. “I’m sorry!” But Nasir didn’t look back.

“Congratulations, Agron,” Crixus said. “You broke someone’s nose during our first skirmish. Will you kick the ball at someone’s crotch next and break their balls?”

“If I do it’ll be yours.” Agron snapped. He grabbed his backpack and broke into a run to his apartment. He could make it if he was quick.

“Agron, what are you doing?” Spartacus yelled after him.

“Getting aleve!” Agron yelled back.

 

Forget what Agron had thought before, Nasir was a cunt. He was a huge cunt. He was a cunt so huge that even his dick couldn’t fill him.

Agron sat on the couch, chin on his hand, glaring at the TV as he watched a soothing, bloody episode of Rome.

“You broke someone’s nose, gave them aleve, and apologized,” Spartacus said after taking one look at Agron. “You did what you could.”

“I shouldn’t have.” Agron muttered.

Spartacus took a seat beside him. “And why is that?”

“He’s a whining, ungrateful little bitch.”

“What did he say?”

Agron told him about the “hit pedestrians” comment Nasir had made.

“Agron,” Spartacus sound like he was holding back a long suffering sigh. “You can’t expect everyone to know your history. I didn’t know until you told me you couldn’t hang out that one day. I just thought you had a tendency to sulk.”

Agron glared at him. “I don’t sulk.”

“Then what would you call it?”

“Brooding.” Agron pulled the word out of his ass. He didn’t know what to call it. He didn’t even know he was doing it.

“Brooding then. My point is that-- what is his name?”

“Nasir.”

“Nasir can’t read your mind. He doesn’t know your past. It was a tragic accident and people don’t expect that someone they just met would have been through that and they certainly don’t know the specific details of it.”

“He’s still a little bitch.” Agron’s declaration was vehement.

“And what are you, the person who broke his nose?”

“He deserved it.”

“Agron, stop being an asshole.”

 

Agron wasn’t successful at not being an asshole when he saw Nasir again. He had no more desire to associate with him, at least until Nasir offered him his notes, just as Agron had asked before. That was… nice.

Fuck, Spartacus was right. He was being an asshole.

“Thanks. Nasir--” Before he could apologize properly, the teacher arrived.

He’d been organizing a proper apology in his head until Glaber made the pop quiz announcement and then he just wanted to strangle something.

 

Good news: Nasir wasn’t a dick and Agron’s first impression of him as a friendly person and one he’d like to get to know as well as have sex with was correct. Better news: he was gay. Uncertain news: Agron had no idea if he was going to this party or not.

He could ask Spartacus to do his wingman thing. He’d been good at it before and Agron had managed to have his first and so far only college hook up because of it. There hadn’t been a connection like there had been with his high school boyfriend but-- fuck Jeremy, that cheating ass.

Anyway, he could ask but-- he wanted to see if Nasir liked him for him and not just Spartacus’s somehow charming ways. Agron could be charming.

 

Agron couldn’t be charming. Agron was narrowly avoiding beating someone to death.

Fucking Castus. Nasir was falling for his stupid flirting and his stupid face and his stupid muscles--

Agron had muscles too. And his face was fine. And he could flirt! He’d been flirting!

Only Nasir had never blushed when he’d flirted with him.

Fuck Castus.

Agron knew the first words out of his mouth when he and Spartacus left the party should be a “thanks for getting me a date” but he was preoccupied with stopping himself from going back, seeing if Castus was still there, and breaking a second nose this semester.

“That was a productive party,” Spartacus said.

Oh, right. “Thanks for being my wingman again.”

“The movie night isn’t ideal with all of us together, but he was hesitant enough for your study date. I thought it was the best move.”

“No, movie night is good. I’m not just in it for a hook up. Last time was good but it wasn’t great.”

Spartacus looked at him. “You need something more?”

“Yeah. Not that I don’t want to fuck him.”

“I know you do. He is good looking, objectively speaking. I like long hair.”

Agron grinned. “I saw him first.”

Spartacus laughed.

 

Agron smiled at Nasir and said goodbye as he closed the door behind him. He could already see the hickeys forming on Nasir’s neck and he grinned wider.

Yes. Agron- 3. Failed attempts at flirting-

...Forget the score for failed attempts at flirting.

That wasn’t important anyway. What was important was that he’d gotten to know Nasir and that they did have the connection that Agron thought they did, if not in the ways he expected (who would have thought they’d both lost someone to a car accident). Coffee had been great, if not the studying itself, and then when Nasir got here for the movie…

Fuck, that had been amazing.

Agron lounged on the couch until Spartacus returned.

“How’s Mira?” He asked.

“Safely home.” Spartacus closed the door.

“Did you plan that?”

“What?”

“Everyone but me and Nasir left.”

Spartacus smiled. “He’s not in your bed, is he?”

“No, he went home. We just made out.”

“I knew you could do it eventually.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Have a relationship. Try not to stick your foot in your mouth. Now, I’m tired.” Spartacus kept smiling at Agron and walked back to his room.

Have a relationship. Agron liked the sound of that.

 

Agron hadn’t stuck his foot in his mouth but he had fucked up with Nasir. He overreacted when he saw him with Castus but that cunt hadn’t been able to stop flirting with Nasir at the party. What else did he want from Nasir but a fuck?

And why else would Nasir talk to him but to--

No, he had to stop thinking that. He told Nasir that he wouldn’t tell him what to do. He had to trust him.

Easier said than done.

With those thoughts in his mind, it was harder than ever to focus on his paper. He kept picturing Nasir and that cunt with the unnervingly wide smile.

When Monday came along, he wasn’t much company seeing as he’d stayed up all night to do his fucking paper. So he had a brief conversation with Nasir, of which he could remember nothing, seeing as he’d passed out shortly after.

And then he’d dreamed of Duro.

 

His heart felt heavy as a rock when he woke and the weight of it would force it to slide down to his stomach at any moment.

Duro. He’d been so busy, he’d almost forgotten. He’d known. But he’d been so distracted, first with Nasir and then that paper that…

He’d almost forgotten.

He’d been having fun while his brother was _dead_ and unable to see movies with someone he cared about, or make out with them, or even write a fucking paper and bitch to Agron about it later. Meanwhile Agron had done all of that. Without him.

After a while of lying in bed, recalling the dream and how it reflected real life perfectly, right down to the spatter of blood Duro coughed up as Agron held him, Agron got up. He opened the door and almost missed the note that Spartacus had left for him.

It had become something of a tradition last year. Spartacus was a morning person and took early classes. It was an easy way to communicate and had quickly devolved into this.

_You didn’t do the dishes last night. I left them for you to clean. Learn to be more responsible._

_Crixus and the others want to play basketball today. When’s a good time for you?_

Agron crumpled up the note and threw it in the trashcan by the door.

He had class today. He should go. Nasir would be in English and…

Fuck everything. He was staying in and watching whatever was on tv. It wasn’t like he’d be able to pay attention.

 

“Agron, you saw my note?” Spartacus asked once he got back to their apartment.

“Yeah.”

“What do you think about basketball?” Spartacus headed over to the kitchen. “And I told you to clean the dishes.”

“I don’t care about the fucking dishes!” Agron snapped. He didn’t take his eyes off the screen and… whatever program he was watching.

Spartacus was silent for a moment, then Agron heard him walk over to him.

“Is it today?”

“If you’re talking about Duro dying then yes, it’s fucking today. It _was_ today.”

“I’ll do the dishes.” Spartacus went back to the kitchen. “Basketball should take your mind off it.”

“I don’t want to take my mind off it!”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No!”

“Alright.” Spartacus had moved on to running the dishes under water while he, presumably, scrubbed them. “Do you want me to stay?”

“I don’t care what you do. Go.”

“I know you’re hurt but don’t take it out on me,” Spartacus said calmly.

There was the clink of plates hitting each other as he loaded the dishwasher.

Agron didn’t answer at first but eventually he did respond. “Sorry. Today is…”

“I understand. I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want.”

“It is,” Agron replied immediately.

“Alright.”

It only took half an hour after Spartacus left for the apartment to feel empty.

Sometime around two, Agron had cooled off enough that he was confident he could invite someone back to his apartment to talk. Spartacus had probably followed through on his basketball plans and…

Well, he hadn’t talked to Nasir in two days and he’d lost his parents too.

Agron got out his phone and texted Nasir.

_hey it’s agron want to eat? my place_

He paused as he realized how that came across.

_promise im not trying to fuck you_

Then he ordered a pizza because whether or not Nasir came by, Agron hadn’t eaten all day and his stomach was painfully aware of that fact.

 

Following Agron’s request, Spartacus got back late that night but Agron was still awake, watching tv.

“How are you doing?”

“Better.” Agron answered.

“Good. Let me know if you want to do something tomorrow.”

“I will.” But at the moment he was more interested in doing something with Nasir. And not even sex or making out. Just… something.

He’d only known Nasir for a little over a month but the man had provided more comfort than his best friend had been capable of, granted he’d snapped at Spartacus but… it was more than that. Agron felt more.

Falling in love on the anniversary of his brother’s death had not been what Agron had in mind.

 

This relationship he had with Nasir was comfortable, even easy now that they had gotten past that uneasy period of not know what they were to each other. And, while Agron didn’t expect that Nasir shared the depth of his feelings, Agron comforted himself with the thought that he was probably on his way there.

The first time they kissed-- properly and without Agron hurting Nasir’s nose-- had been great. The first time they fucked had been even better than that. After that, Thanksgiving break felt like it lasted forever without Nasir. That was doubly true once Nasir told him about his brother.

Agron didn’t know why he felt such a visceral reaction to the news. It felt like a blow to his stomach and he was half surprised he hadn’t sounded winded when he’d replied to Nasir.

Nasir found his brother. He’d lost him and he had him again. Agron couldn’t think of better news for him.

Then why did he feel terrible whenever he thought of it? Why couldn’t he get Duro out of his mind? He would never see him again save for in the pictures that lined the halls of his home.

 

When he got back to campus, Agron probably should have stopped by his apartment first and at least dropped his suitcase off, if not in his room then by the door. Although Spartacus probably would have tripped over it if he did the latter and then yell at him later.

Fortunately for Spartacus, Agron missed his boyfriend too much not to drop by his dorm immediately.

As soon as he had Nasir on the bed, Agron was tearing at his clothes. They were lucky he didn’t rip them as he clawed at Nasir’s shirt and pants. Once there was nothing on Nasir, he ground against him, not caring that he himself was still in his clothes. Not until Nasir pushed him back to remove his shirt. Agron helped him with his jeans but first took out the lube he’d put in there, knowing how this was going to go. Forethought was a beautiful thing.

“Oh, you think I’ll let you fuck me?” Nasir said, smiling.

“Don’t want to?” Agron kissed him and bucked his hips forward and into Nasir, grinding their cocks together.

“Ask me nicely.”

Agron ran his thumb along Nasir’s jaw. “Please.”

“In that case, fuck me.” Nasir’s arms wound around Agron’s shoulders. “Now.”

Once Agron was finally inside of Nasir he wanted to scream.

 

A couple weeks later, when Nasir got to Agron’s apartment, Agron had a feeling that he’d want to talk first before falling into bed with him. Not that that was unusual at all, it was more of a 50/50 chance. Talk first or talk after. Agron didn’t mind which one it ended up being.

Today though, he’d seen Nasir with his brother and Faizan… Faizan looked so much like Nasir. It had taken him aback. He could tell instantly that they were brothers, even without the introduction. They never should have been separated.

“Hey.” Nasir smiled at Agron and pushed himself up to kiss him.

“How did it go with your brother?” Agron asked.

“Good. He said we were obvious.”

“He’s O.K. with that?”

“He is.”

“O.K. with what?” Spartacus called as he stepped out of his room.

“Nasir’s brother visited him. He knows we’re together.”

“That’s good.” Spartacus held up a pen and pointed it at them. “But I’m studying tonight and I don’t want to be kicked out of my room.”

“You can stay,” Nasir said. “We won’t kick you out. I’m just here to talk.”

Oh…

Well, that was all right. Talking was better than nothing. And it didn’t stop Agron from setting Nasir down on his lap when they reached the couch. He kissed him.

“Tell me about him.”

 

If fall break seemed to last forever than winter break was even worse. But Nasir managed to distract him, even if Agron got the sense that sometimes he was frustrated with him. But he never seemed to mind since by the time they were through with their phone sex session, both of them were panting and ready to pass out.

And when classes finally started again it was perfect. Nasir was in his bed almost every night. Agron had gotten so used to his presence that he had trouble falling asleep without him and would wake up curled around air.

He should have expected it to end.

Agron hung up on Nasir and immediately threw his phone across the room. The only thing that kept it from breaking was the protective seal around it, bought just for this occasion. From there he overturned the couch, yelling.

He should have fucking known. Nasir and Castus. The whole time they’d probably been-- and Agron had seen it. Them talking, Castus flirting with Nasir, and--

He punched the wall and then punched it again. And again.

It was just like before only Jeremy hadn’t meant as much to him as Nasir.

“FUCK!” Agron screamed. His hands found a lamp and he threw it against the wall. It fractured and glass flew everywhere.

 

Agron had collapsed in front of the upturned couch when Spartacus arrived.

“What the hell-- Agron!”

Agron had his legs drawn up to his chest, arms folded over his knees. He looked up at his friend. “What?”

“What did you _do_?”

“Nasir cheated on me.”

Spartacus dropped his bag to the floor. “What?”

“He cheated on me.” Agron repeated.

“So you wrecked the apartment?”

Agron glared at Spartacus.

Spartacus walked closer to him and sat beside him. “How do you know Nasir cheated on you?”

“I called for him to come over after I finished my paper. He was with Castus. I heard him.”

“And?”

“And he was fucking laughing.”

“Castus?”

“Yes, fucking Castus!” Agron clenched his hand into a fist, then winced as his bleeding knuckles stretched.

“How do you know they were having sex?”

“Because I fucking know! Why else would he be over there?”

“Why did he say?”

“He said they were playing Call of Duty.”

Spartacus was silent for a moment. “Agron.”

“All Castus is interested in him is sex. What else could they be doing?”

“Agron, that doesn’t mean--”

“I should have fucking known it would happen again.” Agron slammed his fist back against the couch.

“Again?” Spartacus asked.

“My first boyfriend he-- fucking cheating assholes. What I ever saw in Nasir--”

“You saw a good person who wouldn’t lie to you and wouldn’t cheat. I know Nasir as well as you do, perhaps better if you think he would cheat on you.”

“What else would he have done?” Agron snapped.

“Play Call of Duty like he said. Agron, your history is clouding your judgment.”

“My judgment is fine!” Agron yelled. He pushed himself up off the floor and started pacing. His eyes darted for another target to vent his rage on. The tv was too expensive but something else, something smaller…

“No, it’s not. Nasir likes video games. It makes sense that he would go over to play with a friend.”

“They are not friends!” Agron got his hands on the stand that the now shattered lamp had rested on and hurled it at the wall.

“Agron! Enough!” Spartacus stood and grabbed Agron’s arm. “You are going to clean this room and you are going to calm down.”

Agron jerked his arm away from Spartacus. “Fine. Whatever you say.” He growled.

Agron managed to complete the first of Spartacus’s tasks but as for calming down, that was asking the impossible of him.

 

Agron lay on his bed, alone, and had his phone to his ear. He didn’t know why he was doing this. Talking to Nasir earlier that day had been bad enough but he had some sick need to hear his voice again and his explanation.

Even if it was a fucking voice mail.

“Agron, I know you’re angry but I didn’t cheat on you. I missed playing Call of Duty and he offered to let me play. Nothing happened. I told him not to flirt with me and he didn’t. I’m coming over and we’re talking.”

Nothing happened. Castus didn’t flirt. Agron was supposed to believe that? Nasir couldn’t come up with a more believable lie?

Agron threw his phone across the room for perhaps the fiftieth time. He swung his legs over the mattress and stood. Then he rooted through his clothes, picking out each of Nasir’s shirts and throwing them into a pile. It probably took him half an hour to find them all. When he was done he put them in a bag.

He didn’t want to see another reminder of his ex boyfriend again.

It wasn’t easy to hand them over to Nasir, not because it was painful to get rid of them but because he couldn’t stand to look into his fucking eyes.

Agron stepped into his room and nearly tripped over the clothes he’d still left lying around. With no other task to keep his mind occupied, he sorted through them and went to his drawer to put them away. But as soon as he opened it he saw one of Nasir’s shirts lying there.

He dropped his clothes and grabbed it. It was a dark shade of blue, one of the shirts that looked particularly good on Nasir and--

He couldn’t give it back, not after he’d already dropped off the rest of Nasir’s shirts.

_“I trust you, as I thought you trusted me.”_

Agron walked to his bed and sank onto it, still holding the shirt.

 

Agron was a dick. No, he wasn’t just a dick, he was a colossal dick and Chadara was telling him as much. Agron couldn’t look at her, instead he stared at the door that Nasir had walked through.

If Nasir had cheated on him then why did he feel so bad that he had overheard everything? He deserved to hear what Agron thought of him, what he _was_. He was nothing but a cheating little whore and--

And he’d heard Agron call him that, in explicit words, mixed with lies that had spilled from Agron’s mouth anyway.

“Stay away from him!” Chadara yelled before leaving.

“I told you to stop,” Spartacus said from behind him.

“You knew he was there.”

“I saw him. I didn’t think you wanted to know about it.”

“You should have told me.”

“I should have.” Spartacus admitted. “But what happened isn’t my fault.”

No, it was Agron’s.

 

Agron tried to apologize to Nasir but, just as Agron wouldn’t hear him before, now Nasir wouldn’t give him the time of day either. At first Agron had felt guilty (and angry) but now he just felt bitter (and still angry). To make things worse, he’d been uninvited from seeing Pompeii because he was, according to Naevia “an asshole of the highest order” and she was “ashamed to be seen in public with him.”

Even Spartacus hadn’t intervened and over what? Some person who cheated on him? So Agron had been a dick but that didn’t mean his friends should turn his back on him when Nasir had started this.

With that in mind, Agron was less than pleased when Nasir showed up for History Club. And, after Spartacus had kicked him out, Agron realized that, again, he’d said things he shouldn’t have.

Spartacus found him outside of the building, waiting for Nasir.

“I told him to go out the other door,” Spartacus said when he saw Agron’s disappointment. “Were you going to apologize or passive aggressively insult him some more?”

“Apologize,” Agron said quietly. He took out his phone. “I’ll text him.”

“He changed numbers after he broke his phone.”

Broke his phone?

Agron looked up. “Alright, then what’s his new one?”

“He changed it for a reason, Agron. He doesn’t want you to text him.”

Agron opened his mouth. He couldn’t quite get out his words. “How am I supposed to apologize?”

“Wait until next week if you can stop acting like the asshole I’ve tried to tell people you aren’t. I don’t think he’ll believe you. I told him you were sorry for before and then you do this? What were you thinking?”

Agron put his phone away. He didn’t answer because he had no answer to give.

 

Spartacus left his phone lying on the table that night. Agron scrolled through the contacts list until he found Nasir’s number and copied it to his own. But he didn’t work up the courage to text him until Saturday afternoon.

Just as Spartacus had said, Nasir didn’t accept his apology.

With that and everything going on in his life, Agron hadn’t felt like doing much of anything. But he still let Spartacus convince him to drag him to some party. He knew that Nasir could be there but he still stiffened when he caught sight of him.

He could try talking to him but…

He’d apologized. Nasir had refused. He’d also cheated on him. He kept repeating that last sentence to himself but the words of his friends quickly followed. “He wouldn’t do that.”

Agron recognized when someone was much too drunk for their own good and when Nasir stumbled toward the door he could tell he was going to throw up. He went to the table with the drinks, grabbed a bottle of water, and followed.

Nasir had just finished throwing up the contents of his stomach but he was still heaving-- and about to faceplant right into a rosebush. Agron caught his arm just in time to steady him and inadvertently pulled him back against his body.

He remembered this.

Agron gave Nasir the water, sat him down, and talked to him long enough to find out he needed to bring Chadara here to take him back home. It took him a while to pick her out in the crowd but he eventually saw her long blond hair.

“Chadara.”

She turned and her eyes narrowed at him. “What do you want?”

“Nasir is sick. You need to take him to his dorm.”

Chadara’s expression hadn’t changed. “I told you to stay away from him.”

“I stopped him from falling into a rosebush. You’re welcome. You still need to take him back.”

Chadara huffed and moved past Agron.

 

Agron stopped snapping at Nasir. Nasir stopped glaring at him. Things weren’t easy, they weren’t normal, and Agron felt more conflicted than he’d been in his life, but they weren’t terrible.

Actually no, they were pretty terrible.

He hadn’t wanted to go to see Captain America with Nasir. It was too much to be with him. He knew Nasir was still angry with him and Agron was mad at him too. Sometimes. He thought. He wasn’t sure anymore. All he knew was that he’d missed Nasir and sometimes he had this urge to take out Nasir’s shirt from the depths of his drawer and hold it. It was stupid. He didn’t do it. Didn’t stop him from wanting to.

When they got into the car to drive back, Nasir looked away from him. Agron did the same but he couldn’t stop himself from glancing over at Nasir. The man remained where he was, staring out the window. It was like that for the ride back.

And then it happened and all Agron could think about was Duro, bleeding, dying in his arms but his face kept changing to Nasir’s.

 

They’d given Agron enough morphine that even if the paramedics let him, he suspected he wouldn’t have been able to walk to the hospital on his own. He still felt the pain in his arm. He just didn’t care.

That was all he didn’t care about.

“I need to see my friends,” he said as they rolled his stretcher into a room.

“We need to run some tests on you first and call a surgeon for your arm.”

“No, I need to know how they are. Nasir and Chris and--” He really wished he knew Spartacus’s given name right now. “I need to know how they are.”

“I need you to calm down.”

“No.” Agron couldn’t calm down because this was exactly how Duro had died. He could see him in his arms. He could see Crixus, bleeding from the head, not breathing and he could feel the blood beneath his hand as he pressed it to Nasir’s wound.

He struggled to get up. “I need to see them! Tell me how they are!”

One of the nurses gestured to the others and they held him down while another went to his IV.

“I have to-- I have--” Agron found it harder to focus or even to move. He lay back on his bed, knowing that there was someone he needed to see but he couldn’t…

He closed his eyes.

 

He was awoken by hushed voices. He knew them but it wasn’t until he opened his eyes that he could identify them. His parents were by his bedside. Both of them looked like they’d been crying. Standing before them was Spartacus. They were quietly talking until Spartacus glanced his way and smiled.

“Good morning, Agron.”

His parents both turned to face him.

“Agron.” His mother touched his cheek in a way that Agron would have found embarrassing if he didn’t also find it comforting.

“They gave you morphine. Are you in pain?”

“Yeah.” Agron’s voice was hoarse. It felt like there was gravel in his throat when he spoke. It must have been from the surgery they’d told him about as they wheeled him in but he didn’t know why. “But I don’t really-- it’s not bad.”

“I’m so glad you’re all right.” His mother kissed his forehead.

Agron found that a little embarrassing now.

“We got here as soon as we could.” His father said. “Your friend told us what happened.”

Agron looked at Spartacus. “Nasir?”

“I haven’t talked to him yet.”

“Do you know if he’s--”

“I’ll see him.”

Agron fought against the rising lump in his throat. He wasn’t going to cry over this. But…

“And Crixus?”

“Naevia told me he just got out of surgery. They think he’ll live.”

Agron could tell in Spartacus’s voice that something was wrong and Agron knew what it was. Crixus hadn’t been breathing for too long. The effects of that…

“And you’re--”

“I’m fine.”

Agron nodded. The movement made him nauseous. “Can you-- Nasir--”

“I’ll talk to him. I’ll be back.” Spartacus slipped out of the room after saying goodbye to Agron’s parents.

“I’m sure Nasir is fine.” His father said.

Agron knew better than to nod again. “Yeah…” He closed his eyes.

“Sleep, Agron. We’ll be here.” His mother stroked his head again. “I promise we’ll be here.”

_”I’m here, Duro…”_

“I’m here…” Agron mumbled as he drifted back into sleep.

 

“I love you.” Agron told Nasir but he remained frozen.

““My-- parents are waiting for me,” Nasir almost tripped over his words as he spoke. “I need to go. Feel better.”

Agron watched as Nasir left, not quickly but obviously pushing himself to get out of the room as fast as he could.

Agron wanted to say something to get him to stay but nothing would be enough and he couldn’t get his tongue to work or force his lips to do anything more than tremble.

Too late. He knew it was too late. Nasir had tried to reason with him and then Agron had…

Fuck, everything he’d done…

“Agron?” His mother walked back inside, followed by his father. “He left suddenly is-- what’s wrong?” She took the seat by his bed.

What was wrong? Agron didn’t want to say. And yet he did. He’d have to, anyway.

“I broke up with Nasir two months ago.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Mom, I’m an idiot.”

 

There wasn’t enough room in Spartacus’s apartment for his parents and he knew they’d feel more comfortable with them (not to mention be more willing to help him with the surgery after care), so he stayed with them in a hotel. Both of his parents hovered over him. Agron had to think of polite ways to tell them to go away but he knew they were hurting too. He knew they were also thinking of Duro and how he had died. And now they’d almost lost their eldest son too.

So Agron wasn’t alone when he got the text. He assumed at first it was from Spartacus, giving him a nonupdate about Crixus. He was still sluggish from the surgery so he fumbled with the phone as he picked it up.

_I love you too._

Nasir…

It seemed to take an age before he was able to excuse himself and get away from his parents but when he finally managed it, he picked up the phone.

When he finally said goodbye to Nasir, Agron held the phone to his chest. He laughed and tilted his head back.

“Jesus fucking Christ, thank you.”

 

Almost a month later, he had Nasir in his bed. His broken arm was draped over him, held still in a cast, and he couldn’t feel him through it but he needed to be close. Agron pressed his face to Nasir’s neck, breathing in his scent and brushing his nose down his neck. A lock of hair tickled his face and Agron smiled before kissing Nasir’s back.

Nasir’s deep, even breathing told Agron that he was asleep.

“Love you.” Agron mumbled before he closed his eyes. “Love you.”


End file.
